


September Creative Prompts

by Wardove



Category: Flight Rising, Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-19 05:30:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20651984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wardove/pseuds/Wardove
Summary: A week's worth of quick little writing prompts for a discord server~  Some days I write for my Flight Rising Dragons, and some days I write for my Spider Stories series, because why not?





	1. 15th: Outside The Window (Spider-verse)

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a quick fun thing~ There's 7 prompts spanning a week. I'll be doing something similar next month with Inktober's prompts (which are technically for art but I'm gonna write like 3/4 of them because I like writing more than drawing). I'll label each story Spider-verse or Dragon-verse to keep them from getting tangled :) 
> 
> These aren't going to be as closely edited as I usually try for in my actual stories because 1) it's one a day and I don't wanna stress/burn out, and 2) it's more about the fun and the challenge for me, rather than the conveyance. AKA I'm posting these just to see if I can :)
> 
> Prompt List:  
15th: Outside the Window (Spider-verse)

Dave had just settled down for the night when he heard the faint thud from outside. It wouldn't have been too alarming if he hadn't been up on the 43rd floor, or if the sound had come from somewhere _other_ than outside his living room window, which was _not_ where the fire escape was. 

He stood in the kitchen thinking for a few heartbeats, bundled up in his post-shower bathrobe with his hands wrapped around his steaming mug of tea and toes firmly tucked into the fluff of his whimsical pink slippers that no-one under any circumstances were allowed to know he owned. 

He's almost convinced himself it was just a bird when he hears a sneeze. And a faint voice which is muffled by the wall and window, but the tone says cursing. He's afraid for another few heartbeats until he remembers that he lives in New York and honestly _who else would be outside a window with no access over 400 feet off the ground._

So he pads across the fake-hardwood of his living room, shifting his tea to one hand, and popping the latch on the window with the other. There's a yelp outside as he slides the pane up and sticks his head out, and it only takes a bit of twisting to find the black-suited vigilante clinging to the shiny exterior wall, white-lensed eyes wide with surprise and mask rolled up over his nose. 

"Bless you." Dave says after a pause that gets long enough to feel awkward. Spider-Kid tilts his head mutely in confusion, and Dave gestures towards him vaguely. "You sneezed." 

"Oh. Uh, right!" The kid sniffs sharply and drags his forearm across his nose but freezing halfway through the action, and Dave can't help laughing. Spider-Kid drops his arm and scowls as he pulls his mask back into place, and Dave almost spills his tea before getting his chuckles under control. 

"Quiet night?" Dave asks, once Spider-Kid is reclining against the wall and he's leaning heavily on the windowsill once more. The little vigilante shrugs and bobs his head. 

"A few bag snatchers, one attempted break-in, and a lot of old people with heavy bags." He pauses, tensing as he looks down to the streets below and twitches his head. The motion reminds Dave of the videos he's seen of owls honing in on prey, and he figures the kid's caught wind of some crime. And indeed, the little vigilante rockets away from the wall a second later, plummeting down and almost out of sight- just another smudge of motion as Dave watches him rise up once more and disappear around another building's corner. 

He sighs and finishes his tea before sliding the window closed once more. Bedtime for sure.


	2. 16th: Coffee Vs. Tea (Dragon-verse)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dragon-verse this time. A quick thing- not even a page, but it really didn't wanna be expanded and I'm almost out of time today.

It starts with Gaefa and Tagora. The beastmaster insists tea is superior because of all the different flavors- some soft and herbal, others powerful and heavy. The mechanic however scoffs at the leaf juice and insists the only drink worth the effort of brewing is coffee, heavy and thick and strong enough to carry a hardworking dragon though long hours of work. Tagora in turn huffs at the crude bean silt. 

The Leviathan team are chatting at a table nearby, and Ray pips in on the side of coffee. Gaefa nods at this until Yuuei declares he likes the variety of tea too. Luciferin also votes for tea because coffee makes the spectral hands that haunt him cranky and it’s a hassle getting them to settle once more. 

Slowly others in the cafe get pulled into the debate. Then it's spilling out onto the streets. A trio of students from the university vote for coffee because they've been banned from drinking coffee ever again and they're spiteful. Voleva and her kin vote for tea because it's harder to read the futures in coffee's dregs. 

It doesn't come to blows, but there's quite a bit of yelling before Shannara catches wind of something happening and wanders down to investigate. The originators of the argument decide that the princess will be the deciding vote. The crowd goes quiet as she pauses and tilts her head in thought. Finally, she nods. 

"I like hot coco best. With whip cream, and little marshmallows." 

And then she strolls into the cafe, and everyone exchanges looks. 

Fair enough, they agree. Hot chocolate trumps coffee and tea apparently. The lady has spoken, and thus the crowd disperses.


	3. 17th: Childhood Fear (Dragon-verse)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this... I can't really explain. It was almost more of a... I don't wanna call it a vent? Just a release I think. A reflection on things. It's very indistinct, and you can either read into it, or not.

When Jerle first meets Shannara he views her as childish and entirely too _light_ to truly exist. She's open and cheerful and seems to have no fear- up in trees, exploring cave systems, chatting with wanderers who look like they managed to walk away from a fight with an emperor- she was bright and shining through it all. 

It was several months after he joined their little family that he got his first hint of the part of her past she never spoke of. It started like a normal day, she was perhaps a little quieter than usual, but not worryingly so. They had been exploring a nearby cave system together for the past few days, but when Nara stepped into the darkness and he moved to follow she skittered back, ears tucked tight against her skull and wings folding close to her chest as she nimbly slipped around him and back outside. 

"Not today I think." She muttered softly before quickly turning away. "C'mon, let's follow the river instead." 

Jerle almost protested- she'd been so excited yesterday because of some odd-looking rocks they'd found in a deeper cavern and she’d been going on the previous night about how she wanted more of them- but after a moment's hesitation, he nodded and trailed after her. And exploring the river was pretty fun- chasing fish and diving off cliffs and trying to stand up underneath waterfalls, but still something niggled at his mind. 

It wasn't until the evening when Jerle got the second hint. Normally Annashi would settle down first, and Nara would press her back against her mother's tail and lay her head across Jerle's chest (a position which he's become oddly comfortable with surprisingly quickly.) 

This evening however, he almost missed spotting his fellow pearlcatcher at first. She was curled in a tight red-and-brown ball underneath Nashi's craggy chin, her head tucked fully under her own wing. Nashi opened one eye at his approach but didn't speak or move her head- instead she lifted one of her wings in a welcoming gesture. He wanted to ask, to know what was going on, but instead he tucked himself against the guardian's side and let his eyes fall closed, missing the weight of a head. 

The next day he woke to find Nashi gone and Nara slowly snapping a branch into smaller and smaller pieces. He hadn't been sneaking when he came up behind her, but she still flinched when he stopped by her shoulder, and he warily gave her more space. That was the third hint. 

The third was when she simply nodded silently in greeting. She'd told him weeks ago that sometimes she lost her words, but even then she was usually content with using the clicks and chirps of a hatchling. 

There was a rustle of scales and leaves and Annashi peered into the clearing, meeting Jerle's eyes and gesturing with her head for him to follow. Once they were well away from the clearing, Annashi finally spoke. 

"You know Shannara's my charge, and not originally my own cub." 

It felt like a trick question, but Nashi wasn't like that, so he answered honestly. "Yeah. You mentioned she was living with a troupe of Spirals when you found her?"

The great head nodded. 

"I never asked her about what happened in her past. It was over a year before she started to tell of her life before the troupe picked her up. And there's some things that still haunt her from cubhood that I think she still hasn't told me about. I'm not sure she fully remembers it herself." She leveled a warning glare at Jerle, and despite her not speaking a word, he understood the message. Let it be until Nara felt safe enough to confide in him. He nodded silently, and they turned back to the clearing, where Nara was fixated on a small fire she'd started with her broken stick. 

They went back to the cave a few days later, and Nara was delighted to find the curious crystals she'd been looking for previously. 

(It was years later, once they’d settled into what became Corona Village, that she told him the tale. Some fears were well founded afterall, even if the origin had been locked away.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got the next two days planned out at least- tomorrow's going to be an odd style dragon-verse one, and then Thursday will be back to Spider-verse (and one I've been giddy to write lol).


	4. 18th: Milkyway (Dragon-Verse)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _-leaning off the bed to access the laptop at minutes to midnight- **It's Still T o d a y.**_
> 
> Kinda thought about expanding it further, focusing on each individual starspirit and their origins, but 1) I kinda like it the way it is and 2) I hella ran out of time XD

Sometimes, on clear nights when the moons are dark and dim and the twinkling light of the distant stars are allowed to shine in their full glory, the starspirits will look up to the vastness of their former home, and share their tales with those who would listen. 

Some recall the bright, hyper energy of a young star, less than a billion years old and still jubilant with the energy of its birth. Some speak of the calmness of the settled stars, content in their lazy whorls and dances that they have followed for millennia. The exhausted throes of a star fighting the end of its life, to burn in the eyes and memories of all who see it for just a little longer. The stars who peter out quietly, and those whose rage at the end continues on, exploding out in a final, furious scream at the inevitability of their own passing. 

The lone stars who burn in solitude, almost unseen so lost are they in the blackness of space and isolation. The bright, shining collections- young stars building a complex weave of light and energy as they dance and flit past each other. Pulling each other into new intricate patterns at each pass, even as they spin out their own little satellites to dance with. 

And some spirits speak of the great voids between. Where nothing burns, and the only thing colder than the space around is the loneliness of sheer isolation and the dark wind of fears unknown. 

The eldest, barely coherent in their vast minds and ages, tell of the wall of light, so distant as to be unseen upon the patterns of the sky. The pure force of creation, the edge of reality, beyond which even the starspirits can recall nothing. 

Then Sorienth's own sun will rise once more, and those with the star-touched feathers and scales will look away once more, to move and live and breathe among the little fleeting mortals they have mimicked.


	5. 19: Handle With Care (Spider-Verse)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this one became so long I ended up not being able to finish it for yesterday. I'll try to get today's prompt done tomorrow, but uhh... It's Mabon so I'll be in the kitchen _a lot_ lol. 
> 
> In terms of timeline for spider-stuff, this is the POV of Peter B. Parker, set before "Into The Spider-verse", though it could also be taken as after the movie as well.

Peter’s not quite sure how it happened, but there’s a tiny gurgling baby in his hands. It’s got a peach-fuzz of hair, and little blue eyes almost lost in the chubby squished face. He thinks it’s scowling, but he can’t actually tell since it also seems to be growling- or is it laughing? Also, _it’s in his hands_.

Who the hell gave him a baby?

Well actually, it was probably that woman with the empty baby stroller that was now using said stroller to ram the car that ran the red light and almost hit her. And she’d PROBABLY given him the baby because he’s Spider-Man right now and for some reason that means he’s the perfect person to hold a baby. 

Right. 

_Wrong._

Peter looks down at the baby that’s laying across his palms again. Aren’t you supposed to hold them a certain way otherwise they’ll die? It’s kinda drooling on itself- that’s normal right? Babies drool all the time, right? Oh god who the hell leaves their baby with a vigilante?! A vigilante who can throw buses and crumple steel with one hand!?

He tries pulling it closer and shifting it to mimic how he’s seen people hold babies on the streets, but the scowl deepens and the thing whines in what even Peter can tell is displeasure. He quickly holds it out again and looks back to the mother frantically. She’s now hitting the driver’s shins with her stroller while he’s trying to cuss at her about the scratched paint job. No help there. 

_Shit._

It’s still whining, and now the eyes are closed and the nose is twitching. Is it mad?

“Are you angry?” He asks warily, pulling it closer to his face again. “You look angry.”

The eyes open again and the whine fades out. One little arm works itself free, and the baby smacks him in the nose. 

Okay, baby wants personal space. Can do. 

Peter lowers it again and immediately the whining starts again, except now there’s a weird hiccuping involved. 

He pulls it close to his face again and gets his eye-lens smacked this time, but then the baby giggles so… win?

Apparently babies like violence. Good to know. 

Peter thinks he’s saved when he spots Mary Jane stepping down off the sidewalk, because here is someone who can _actually_ be trusted with tiny fragile baby humans. And then she shifts said tiny baby and Peter’s own arms until the little menace is cradled in one arm, which leaves his other hand free but _MJ no you’re supposed to take it._

She smirks and backs away, and Peter glares at her from behind his mask. 

_T r a i t o r._

She holds up her arms like Peter is and mimes wriggling fingers in the baby’s face. He raises an eyebrow at her, making sure she can see it even as he repeats the motion. 

The little blue eyes go wide and his middle finger is immediately grabbed and stuffed into the drooling mouth. That is… _so_ unsanitary. But MJ seems pleased, so Peter allows the pitiful attempt at cannibalism until he feels the drool soaking through his glove. Nope nope nope. 

He pulls his finger out of the mouth, but allows the baby to grab and twist his pinkie (keeping it away from the mouth though). After a few moments, he flexes the muscles connected to his pads and sticks the finger to the chubby little palm. 

The baby blinks once. 

Twice. 

Then it lets out a high shriek and Peter almost drops it from the assault on his sensitive hearing. He quickly releases the palm and pulls his hand away, but several frantic heartbeats later he realizes the thing is _laughing._

MJ’s almost doubled over in the road, clutching her stomach as she laughs. Rude. 

Warily, he offers his index finger this time, and sticks to the palm that grabs it. The baby shrieks again, first trying to eat his finger again, and then settling for twisting it this way and that. 

Peter alternates fingers, sticking and un-sticking randomly, and eventually he finds himself chuckling at how easily amused the kid is. Seriously, the baby’s eyes light up _every time_ as if it was the first time, and not the fiftieth. 

Eventually though, the kid finally gets tired of their little game- if you can call it that. Little blue eyes slip closed, and one pudgy fist makes it halfway into the mouth and Peter swears he can see the kid melt a little. Asleep. 

Somehow. 

No longer focused on keeping his fingers away from the drool, Peter finally looks up to take stock of his surroundings once more. 

The guy that started this whole mess by driving recklessly is gone, as is his car. Almost everyone that had been standing around rubbernecking was also gone. The only ones that remained in fact- besides Peter himself- were the baby’s mother and Mary Jane. Peter spotted them sitting together on a bench some distance away, laughing and chatting like they’d known each other forever. They’d also gotten coffee at some point apparently?

MJ spotted him first as he padded over to join them, and she grinned up at him without bothering to stand, raising her cup in a vague gesture of greeting. The mother seemed much less intimidating now that she wasn’t ramming cars (and people) with her stroller anymore, and she too smiled and made the same vague wave with her own coffee. 

“You have any?” She asked curiously as she sipped her drink. He looked from the coffee, to the sleeping infant in his arm, and back to the coffee before sighing. 

“Man I _wish_, good hot cup of coffee would be amazing right about now, but my hands are a little full.” 

She looked a little surprised at that, though he wasn’t sure why. What, did she think he had a thermos of coffee tucked away in his suit somewhere? He'd tried that- coffee and web-swinging is unwise and should not be repeated. Again. 

Mary Jane appeared to be attempting to suffocate herself as she stifled laughter. The mother looked back at her with a raised eyebrow, and MJ just shook her head without explaining. 

Peter was _pretty sure_ he was the butt of some hidden joke here, and in any other company he’d be far more miffed about it, but this was MJ. And also a mom whose baby was still pressed against his chest. He shuffled his feet and rested his free hand on the little chest, trying to figure out how to shift it out of his arms. 

Thankfully for the vigilante, the mother saw this and set her coffee cup on the ground (by the sound it was empty- just how long had it been?!), getting to her feet and easing her child away from him with a smooth, practiced motion. 

“Thank you for keeping her entertained while I dealt with that asshole.” The woman called gently over her shoulder as she turned to nestle the kid back into the former weapon / baby stroller. 

Peter nodded mutely, wondering what to say. He glanced over at MJ, who had regained her composure, though her eyes were still dancing with mirth. 

It was almost a relief when he heard a siren, on the edge of even his super-hearing. He tossed off a quick quip and a cheeky salute, and then web-launched himself into the air like a rocket before anyone could hand him any more babies. 

Punching criminals was _way_ less stressful.


	6. 20: Swinging and Sliding (Spider-verse)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mabon prep took more energy than I expected RIP. So I didn't manage to get all the prompts done in time, but I figured since I had this one sketched out I could at least finish it. Not sure if I'll do the last one- might just pass it, or write it and post it later-later. For now I'll mark this complete though. Thanks for reading!

Jeff sees it happen first simply because he’s always got one eye on the rooftops these days. A distinct black-and-white-and-pink clad figure swings up, hits the edge of the roof, curls as if to leap higher- and then her feet slide forward and she disappears over the other side of the roof. Jeff can’t be sure if he imagined the familiar voice spitting cusses or not. 

He thinks he imagined it that time- the spiders have sticky powers right? Miles showed him how it works, even if the explanation got a little too weird for the cop to keep up with. 

The second time it happened was much harder to ignore. Mainly because he heard the thud from above, followed immediately by Miles’s voice yipping sharp and high, and then seconds later a black-and-red spider slams face-first into the wall just a few feet overhead. It looked like he’d gone over the edge feet-first, shot a web so he didn’t land in the road, and swung down into the wall he’d just gone over. 

“Watch your language.” Jeff scolds automatically, even as he hurries up to stand beneath Miles in case the boy needs a softer landing. Spider-Kid’s head twists about and white lenses stare at him in disbelief. Jeff elected to pretend he hadn't just said that to the vigilante-who-happened-to-be-his-son.

“Thought you kids were supposed to be all about grace and power and sticking to buildings?” 

Miles lets go of the web and drops lightly to the ground next to Jeff, immediately sitting his butt on the ground and wrapping his hands around his toes and scowling (Jeff is pretty sure he’s scowling at least). 

“First of all, it’s cold. It’s cold and I hate it. It’s not even winter yet, why is it so cold? Secondly, no-one salts the roofs or walls, which means no traction on the ice. Thirdly, I don’t stick my foot to the ground every time I take a step, that’d be exhausting- which means when I step on ice, I’ve only got my shoe’s traction. Also, have I mentioned that it’s cold?!”

“Maybe you should talk to May about a winter suit? Peter mentioned having one a while back.” Miles nods thoughtfully and releases his toes, rolling to his feet with a smooth bounce and quickly pouncing on Jeff for a quick hug before sling-shotting himself towards the roofs again. 

“Take it slow!” Jeff calls up after him. “Watch your footing! Be careful!” 

Miles doesn’t turn around or say anything, but he does toss a vague wave over his shoulder as he vanishes around a corner, so Jeff has to accept that. He hopes the other spiders were having better luck with the weather. 

(They weren’t. Two days later he saw Benji almost slip off a roof before Ham casually broke the laws of physics to catch him by the scruff. Jeff wondered how they’d had a Spider-Man in their city for 10 years without anyone drawing attention to this. Peter’s explanation was that his counterpart probably did the same thing he did- patrol less in winter, and stay away from the roofs and usual slippery surfaces. Apparently the kids were still learning that ‘trick’.)


End file.
